


You Played Me to the Beat

by FoolWithAPen



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dysfunctional Family, Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of suicide attempt, Nick is totally done with the Odinson Family Issues, Social Awkwardness, Steve just wants to go someplace else, Warning: Loki, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoolWithAPen/pseuds/FoolWithAPen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve, physical fitness director for the Shield Center, finds himself caught up in family issues between a wealthy donor and a guest artist at the Annual Gala.  He'd rather be having some of the lovely food that's been put out, but that would involve being social.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Played Me to the Beat

Steve suppressed the urge to adjust his tie again, and instead looked around the crowded ballroom.  A reluctant smile tugged at his lips.  Little as he enjoyed these shindigs, it was for the good of the kids, after all, and the wealthy donors needed the encouragement of a once a year party, so it wasn’t so bad.  And this year would have to go firmly in the success box.

The room was full of people, gorgeously dressed, the majority of whom had either made major donations over the last year, or had paid several hundred dollars for a ticket.  It glittered.  The conversations flowed with the same smooth grace as the bartenders were pouring drinks.  Steve saw his colleagues mingling with the usual donors, and felt, once again, the discomfort of not knowing who he should be talking to.

Tony Stark, a familiar sight from five years of annual galas, was looking every inch the playboy the gossip columnists loved to write about.  He was by the bar, sipping a martini and smiling a quick, infectious grin at a strawberry blond who was fairly obviously laying down the law for him.  Good.  If Ms. Potts was babysitting him, nobody would make Steve do it. And he’d love for this to be the year that he got through this thing without being hit on by Tony.

With Tony taken care of, and hopefully prepared to receive the attractive plaque for Stark Industries’ donation of an ultra-modern computer classroom and funding for a full-time computer instructor, Steve was free to look around for other familiar faces.  Natasha was over by the fondue counter, wearing the non-expression that meant she was once again plotting to run someone’s life.  Steve only hoped it wasn’t his.  Ever since she’d started dating that military marksman, nobody’s lack of romantic involvement was safe.  And the pity of it all was that he’d heard the selection of cheese fondues was terrific. 

He debated the wisdom of a strategic retreat to the fruit display in a far corner that looked to have already been colonized by Bruce, the tai chi instructor and unofficial counselor to everyone, staff and participant alike.  But, suddenly, there was an extremely uncomfortable silence at his back.  It was impossible to say how he sensed that particular silence in an enormous room full of fountains, clinking glasses, laughter, and conversation, but the hair at the nape of his neck had risen, even as he turned to see what was happening. 

The pair that greeted his eyes were a study in contrasts.  Though both were tall, the further figure was a golden Adonis.  Steve was almost certain they’d met last year.  An unusual name... Swedish?  Norwegian?  Something, anyway.  In the required black tie, he looked a little like a mobster, too much muscle in a suit that didn’t quite suit him, as though he’d rather be elsewhere, engaged in something properly adrenaline-driven. 

The other figure was lithe, an elegant, almost otherworldly figure who seemed to have been purposefully formed from the mind of whatever designer had created the particular suit he was wearing.  Long, midnight hair was brushed back from a thin, pale face.  At this exact angle, he couldn’t see the full facial expression, but the body language was enough.  This was about to become a Situation.

“I am afraid, sir, that you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” A cutting English accent that should not have been able to be so devistatingly attractive.

As the director of physical fitness at the center, Steve was more than familiar with the body language of aggression and anger.  Both men looked ready to pounce.  The golden blonde’s face showed only surprise, but his hands flexed as though to form fists, and if his muscles stood out any further, whatever tailoring had gone into the jacket would be a total waste.  The other stood in a defensive pose, equally poised between battle and flight.

A quick glance around showed Jane, the center’s education expert and organizer of the biannual astronomy nights had also picked up on the vibe.  With a flick of the eyes and a gesture too small to garner the attention of the combatants, she indicated she’d take the blonde, and he could handle tall, dark, and ready to run.

“Mr. Odinson, how good to see you!  I’m sorry you couldn’t make it to the observation night last month.  The stars were gorgeous!  But if the funding comes through on the grant...  Anyway, there’s someone you simply must meet.”  Steve didn’t have time, or he would stare.  He’d swear nobody had ever heard Jane gush like this, but here she was, and at least she remembered the name.  And it seemed to be working.  The blonde looked bowled over for a moment, looking between the other man and Jane, even as she led him away.

Turning to the other man, Steve stuck his hand forward.  “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met.  I’m Steve Rogers, director of physical fitness for the center.” As Jane seemed to be leading Mr. Odinson over toward Natasha, Steve decided that Bruce was the obvious goal.  Finally looking up, he was almost struck speechless by the sheer beauty of the face before him.  Finely moulded lips in an elegantly long face, with mesmerizing forest green eyes.  “At least. for the next month.  We have someone else coming in, and I can go back to my first love, art.” 

The eyebrows rose.  “Is the center so short of qualified applicants that you must make do for two?”  The cultured voice contained the hint of a sneer, and Steve found himself briefly grateful for the reminder that fine feathers didn’t always make for a fine heart.  But immediately chastized himself for the uncharitable thought.  When he’d been facing off with Mr. Odinson, his new acquaintance had been fairly obviously as much worried as angry.

So he pasted on his best ‘selling the center’ smile and said, “No, no.  I was a double major in undergrad.  Art, because I love it so much, and physical education, because my mother always told me to have a backup plan.  I went on for my MFA, but the arts funding situation right now is pretty grim, so I went with the backup - taught a couple years, then found this and loved it.  Now, our arts director is retiring, so I’m taking the job and we’re moving our Tai Chi instructor into my position.”  Still smiling, he turned again to the overwhelmingly handsome man beside him.

“But I must be boring you, Mr...” He raised his own brows. and looked straight into the glittering viridian eyes.  

A slow, wicked smile crept across the mobile face.  “Luke.  Luke Wordsmith.  Not the name I was born with, but better than the one I grew up under.”  The sheer mischief conveyed in the grin was unsettling.  

But Steve had already made the connection.  “Luke Wordsmith?  As in the guy who made that video about youth suicide.”  It wasn’t a question.  “I just... I cried like a baby when we screened it here.  Wait.”  He looked up to see the mischief deepening in the corners of the thin lips.  “We got you for our mystery award recipient?  No wonder Natasha’s been looking extra Ninja for the last month.  We’re going to be all over the society pages. You wouldn’t even give interviews after totally taking that indie film fest.”

Another thought occurred.  “So why did Mr. Odinson look like he was gonna pop a vein?  I mean, your film is great, and you’ve only just finished your MFA, right?  Who did he think you were?”

The grin disappeared far more quickly than it had appeared.  “It’s unimportant.  I do look forward to the big reveal, however.  Particularly the reason for my being here.  And I believe my film is to be screened as well...”  A long finger reached up to tap lightly at the sharp jawline.

The voice trailed off as the taller man scrutinized Steve through slitted eyes, then looked up, over his shoulder.  Suddenly, his entire demeanor changed.  The sculped eyebrows lifted, bringing new light to the face, even as the thin lips parted in a seemingly friendly smile.  “But enough about me.  Physical fitness, hmmm?  I don’t believe it was in any of the press releases, but I danced to support myself and to get funding for the film, you know.”

“Danced?  Would I know the company?  I do more with sports and related activities, but I’ve wished we had a dance instructor for the center.  Hey, might even help my coordination.  I took the required classes to get my degree, but never felt as comfortable dancing as I did doing other things.”

The expressive face turned wicked once more.  “Not a company.  The Laufey Club - downtown.  Both the ordinary and the revues.  I don’t suppose you’ve been?”  Steve blushed vividly.  He’d been to a revue there - the drag revues were famous, and Natasha claimed that the usual strip nights were great, but he was hardly a regular. 

The corners of Luke’s eyes crinkled attractively, and his voice acquired an edge of sweetness.  “So you have... Regular or revue?”  A pink tongue just brushed the thin lips.

How did the room get so very warm?  And he was certain his shirt had not been so very tight at the beginning of the evening.  Somehow, he managed to reply, but wasn’t sure he’d been heard until the other man gave him a knowing look.  “Pity.  Do you remember the redhead in the black?  Magpie?”

Steve nodded dumbly.  It had been the highlight of the evening.  And to match that exotic creature with the exotic creature before him...  He wondered if it was possible to die of the combination of embarrassment and arousal that was currently flooding him. 

“Well, if you enjoyed that, you would love my other act.  And I can make more in an evening at the club than a ballet dancer sees in a month.  Well, except the ones we have on our roster, too.”  The lithe man moved closer as Steve swallowed and rested his hands on the other man’s arms, just for balance, mind you.

It was at that exact moment, just as he was beginning to wonder where all the air had gone, when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder suddenly yank him back.  “Get your filthy hands off of my brother! 

What the... There was Mr. Odinson again, looming over the slighter man, and this time, the eyes of everyone in the room were on them.

Jane came hurrying from whatever spot she’d been left.  “Mr. Odinson, what are you doing to Steve?”

The booming voice rang out.  “You know this... this...” His ability to speak seemed to escape him as he shook Steve for emphasis.  Steve was strong, but no match for the sheer bulk of the man grasping him.  At that moment, even as he felt Luke step up behind him, another Presence made itself known.  Nick, the center director, was speaking.  

“Gentlemen, I suggest we head to a more private room to discuss this.”  Everyone turned to follow.  When Nick laid down the Way Things Would Be, everyone else fell into line.  Steve still wondered how anyone had dared to injure the stern man’s left eye.  He could just hear Natasha starting up the party again behind them.

***

When they reached the bridal dressing room the museum maintained for weddings, Nick whirled around, narrowing his one eye at Steve.  “Rogers, I would have called you for the last person on staff to be in the middle of something like this, so I hope your explanation is good.  What were you doing with-" 

He wasn’t allowed to finish.  “This... defiler of brothers hired Loki to.. to...”

“I’m not your brother.  I never have been.  If you remain with any doubts, I have no illusions that your father will fail to correct them.  And Mr. Rogers simply was kind enough to lend me his company after your earlier misapprehension.”  Luke’s face was cold, sneering.

“Loki...” The golden man was almost pleading, his voice tinged with a kind of desperation.  “Mother misses you.  I miss you.  We mourned.  Everyone did.  Father... he didn’t say much, but he mourned.  I know he did.  Please, please come back to us.”  In these closer quarters, it was possible to see the stormy blue eyes fill with tears.

The thin mouth twisted as Luke drew himself up.  “No doubt.  You mourn an image of your childhood that never was.  Your mother is always upset when anything disturbs the peace of her image of home and family.  And your father, of course, mourns that he never could control me the way he controlled her and you.  Oh, and that he raised a filthy faggot, of course.”  The last words were sneered, but Steve could hear the bleeding wounds underneath.  “Oh, wait, he did see me at the club a few months after my supposed death, so perhaps he was mourning having raised a whore.” 

The green eyes gleamed with malice.  “Of course, one could wonder exactly why he was at the Laufey Club in the first place.  I didn’t care to ask at the time.  I’m sure you understand, Thor.”

But the golden blond hadn’t even noticed.  “Wait, Loki... he knew?  He knew you were alive?  When?  Are you sure he recognized you?”

“Well, I did call him Daddy when I offered a lapdance, but I suppose it’s possible he didn’t know who he turned down.  He did order a double of vodka right after, though.”

Steve felt his gorge rising.  Whatever had been going on was nothing he wanted to know about.  It always upset him to discover the horrible situations some of the kids came from, and suddenly the parts of the movie that had made him cry acquired a new and horrible further dimension.  He looked up to see Jane, obviously also wishing herself elsewhere, and Nick, obviously done with both the wealthy donor, and the brilliant artist he was supposed to honor tonight.

And, well, he felt used.  Obviously, Luke... Loki... whoever, had just been using him to annoy his not-brother.  The heat, the attraction had simply been a... a prank.

“Not to disturb the little family reunion, or whatever this mess is...”  Nick recalled everyone’s attention to their surroundings.  “But, I have a gala to run.  A gala, I might add, that you have already disrupted with your family issues.”  His beefy arms crossed over a massive chest.  “Now, Mr. Odinson, the center appreciates the generosity of the fund you have founded in what I presume is his honor...” He nodded his head toward the scowling filmmaker.  “But I’d really prefer that we not make it into the society pages as the site of your exploding family issues.” 

Narrowing his eye, he turned to the other participant in this melodrama.  “I can accept that you were ambushed by an unexpected encounter, but for your information, it’s not generally accepted SOP for guest artists to go around enraging wealthy donors.  Tends to shorten careers.” 

Finally, he turned to Steve.  “And try not to get your pretty ass into any more trouble tonight, Rogers.  I’d send you home if I thought Stark wouldn’t notice.”  The perpetual scowl on his face deepened.  “Now get out of here.  The awards should be in about ten minutes, and I don’t want any more nonsense.  I expect you all to handle this like adults and appear on stage, smiling nicely for the cameras, on cue.  I trust you all understand me perfectly.”

Steve turned for the door without a word to anyone.  His lips were tightly pressed, and his hands had bunched into fists, so he shoved them into his pockets.  When he returned to the ballroom, he would head directly for that fruit display and stay there.    Bruce knew enough of the body language of pure rage not to exacerbate the situation any further.  It was a plan. 

Unfortunately, it was a plan he never got to carry out.  Just as Jane passed him, leading a subdued Thor Odinson, he felt a hand on his shoulder.  Whirling around to tell Nick to just back off for right now, he found himself looking instead at a pale neck.  Right, the other bastard who had ruined what had been looking like a relatively pleasant Annual Gala.  “Look, you’ve gotten him jealous, or whatever the hell it was you were trying for.  Congratulations.  Now, I have a relatively unoccupied corner of the ballroom to occupy while I recover my temper, if you will excuse me.”  He was proud of the way he announced this, the hard edge to his voice. 

The long throat swallowed.  Steve still was not looking at the face, so there was no way he’d know what expression occupied it, but he was not expecting “I’m sorry.”  This did get his attention.  Looking up, he saw an uneasy look cross the finely drawn features.  “My adoptive family doesn’t bring out my best side, shall we say?  I’m honored that my film moved you.  It was my answer to my own suicide attempt when I was seventeen.”

Steve sighed.  “Look, I don’t even know why you’re bothering to tell me this.  Your life as a kid sucked.  I kind of picked up on that in the other room.  You were really pissed at someone from your childhood coming into contact with your new life, and I was right there, so you decided to prove something.  I get that, too.  But honestly?  I have no idea at all why you’re here now, talking to me.  You’ve got what you wanted, but I really hate being used that way, so if you’ll excuse me.”  He made to turn once more toward the ballroom.

“It was right after I tried to come out to them.  His father tossed me out, informing me at the same time that I was adopted and he should have known I’d be some deviant like whatever trash had birthed me.”  The green eyes glittered with an unholy light.  “I left a suicide note, and went out on the street to score enough drugs.”  A strange half-smile quirked at the corners of the mouth.  It didn’t even come close to reaching the sad eyes.

Steve shook his head, knowing he would later regret allowing himself to be drawn once more into the nonsense of the Odinson family issues.  Maybe he should have headed for the bar and risked being hit on by Tony again this year. It’s not like he hadn’t survived it before.  “So what happened?  Why didn’t you?  Blinding revelation on the road to Damascus?  What?”

“I did.  I took enough drugs it felt like I was falling into a black void.  And then I woke up later in the same alleyway, somehow alive.  I still don’t know why I didn’t OD.  I asked a doctor, later, the younger one in the movie, and he said I should have died.  Maybe one of the dealers sold me filler instead.  I don’t know.  An ex-boyfriend let me use his place to get cleaned up so I could try for a job.  I got one at the club, found a place to live, and decided to save up for a decent film camera and film.  Then went to school to get the degree so I could market myself.  I tested out of a ton of classes for undergrad and finished in a couple years.  The ex let me know about my funeral, but not about the memorial fund.”

In the background, Steve could hear the ballroom quieting down, the boom of Nick’s voice filling the emptiness.  “We should get in there before Nick sends Natasha to kill me and kidnap you.  And I still don’t know why you’re telling me all this.”

The dark head tilted to the side.  “Don’t you?  You’ll have to meet me for coffee then, so I can explain.  And don’t worry too much about Thor.  I’m sure his father will have an explanation to keep him happy.”  With that, he stalked off to the ballroom, leaving Steve to follow.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my new Tumblr at [FoolishWriter](http://foolishwriter.tumblr.com)


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